


Diplomatic Affair

by Kemvee



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Fucking, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Public Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Shameless Smut, Size Difference, Size Kink, Smut, Sort Of, its more of a world leaders with benefits situation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:19:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29717757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kemvee/pseuds/Kemvee
Summary: In between formal engagements the leader of Fereldan and the Inquisitor have developed a very efficient and very enjoyable means of compromise.It became a regular occurrence, each wagering a stake and seeing who would win the day. Of course normally such illicit dealings are done behind closed doors, well away from prying eyes.But this time they just can't wait."Make a Sound, and you'll be punished later."
Relationships: Alistair/Female Cadash (Dragon Age)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 11
Collections: Nobody Expects the Dragon Age Smutquisition





	Diplomatic Affair

**Author's Note:**

  * For [acrononymous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/acrononymous/gifts).



“Presenting his esteemed majesty King Alistair Therin. Ruler of Fereldan, slayer of the Archdemon and, and… no matter.” The announcer trailed off into awkward mumbling as said ‘esteemed majesty’ strode right past him.

She couldn’t blame him.  _ How many visits has it been now four, five? _ There really was no need for Skyhold to stand on such ceremony anymore. Not that their beloved Ambassador would have ever permitted it to be otherwise.

Malika had heard of King Alistair long before she became the Inquisitor. Everyone in Thedas had. Brave Warden who slew the Archdemon and then, thanks to the influence of Aeducan was made King. As bastards went he was the most successful in living memory.

Her favourable opinion had been slightly tarnished the first time she had met him in person at Redcliffe. She’d been struck with him of course. He was taller even than Blackwall, had a strong nose set in a handsome face. Attractive as he was, and he was thigh clenching beautiful, his abrupt tone and dismissive behavior had irked her. 

“Not just a successful bastard, but an aptly named one too.” She had muttered under her breath as they left the keep. Malika wasn’t arrogant, not usually. But given she had only just saved them all from a fate worse than death and was currently leading hundreds of frightened and weary mages out into the wilderness she gave herself leave to think that he could have been a little more charitable to her cause.

That changed. And over the course of the Inquisitions mission she actually found she enjoyed receiving the Kings letters.

She was a Cadash and could spot an insincerity a mile away. So his frankness, that at times bordered on rude, was a welcome reprieve from the throngs of nobles who usually cluttered her halls.

Their correspondence had an easy, almost flirtatious quality. And she couldn’t forget that Warden Aeducan herself, the woman she held up as an ideal, did regard him as one of her closest companions. 

The Hero’s judgment could not err and in many a War Room meeting Malika had found herself pondering “What would the Warden do?”

“Apart from Alistair?” Leliana had slyly answered one time.

“They were lovers!” she gasped at once. Josephine seemed interested at her outburst, Cullen rolled his eyes.

“Only for a short time. She preferred Sten in the end but they remain friends.”

That was all that was said on the matter. But by the Stone if it wasn’t food for thought. 

And think on it she did. 

Till a few months later she boldly proclaimed “I think we should invite the King here.”

Josephine had been delighted of course and immediately fell into a flourish of planning.

“Josie-” Leliana’s hand on her arm steadied her “-Alistair doesn’t like a lot of fuss.”

“Yes, not a formal ball but something a little simpler. A diplomatic affair.”

Malika nodded. She quite liked the sound of that.

As it happened so had his Majesty. There was the welcome gala of course. Then days of meetings. But in between the formal engagements the two leaders had found an effective and enjoyable means of compromise.

“Inquisitor!” Alistair said breezily as he approached her dais. His approach drew her from her memories and she greeted him with a lazy smile.

“Still insisting on a throne I see, even though you are in  _ my _ Kingdom?”

His eyes twinkled with amusement as did hers. He had begrudgingly conceded in his last visit that she could sit in state. 

_ “If I can make you come three times you’ll agree to no longer sit on a throne.” Alistair had boasted while pushing his head between her parted thighs. Above him Malkia had moaned. _

_ “MMnnnn fine,” she conceded. “But if I make you spill first you’ll tell your Uncle that the throne stays and you will even enthusiastically defend it’s right to remain so.” While speaking she stretched out her body like a cat above him. Sliding down his chest and abdominals of carved hard muscle, then taking hold of his solid length in both hands she sealed her mouth over his tip. _

_ His hips bucked and the action pushed his cock till it nudged the back of her throat. _

_ Alistair’s agreement to the terms was mumbled against her clit. The pleasured vibrations of which, combined with the rasp of his stubbled chin and demanding skilled tongue had her quaking above him within moments. He was good with his mouth. _

_ She had won the day of course. After she had lapped up his spend like a cat licking cream she looked over her shoulder at him with a satisfied smirk of victory. _

_ “I guess my throne is staying where it is and you-” she said grinding her hips against slick lips “-still owe me one more.” _

  
  


“King Alistair!” She welcomed him warmly, already feeling that first coil of sweet anticipation at the sight of him.  _ Later _ , she schooled her features.

“As you recall the Inquisition is not beholden to any one country or monarch. Therefore I am well within my rights to sit in state.”

“Yes yes and might I say you look beautiful while doing so.”

The hall fell silent and Malika flushed at his praise. It was odd for him to be quite so forward in public.

He seemed to realise his social faux pas and spoke boldly now to dispel the awkward silence.

“And I see you have re-decorated since my last visit. Would you care to show me your new Tapestries?” He gestured to the large ceiling to floor length coverings that brightened up the previous barren alcoves of the great hall.

“Of course,” she said as she rose smoothly, falling into step beside him.

The first depicted the destruction of Haven. Orange and red threads made up most of the image but for the dark ominous shadows that represented their enemies, Central was the representation of herself. Resplendent in gold and green shimmering threads, arcing light spilling from her cursed palm. 

Alistair observed it with what she assumed was an interested eye, Malika hated that they hadn’t included her daggers.

“So Your Majesty. Did you come prepared with a series of demands again?”

“Demands.” He tutted and she arched a brow at his derision, leading him to the next Tapestry. This one was all white, their brave escape into the snowy mountains and the finding of Haven. Already all eyes had drifted from them, uninterested. The King visited all the time, it was hardly worth mentioning anymore.

Alistair sighed and conceded “Yes my Uncles have sent me with a list again. But Inq-” his voice dropped. There was no chance they would be overheard with how softly he next spoke. “-Malkia. You must know that’s not the real purpose of my visit?”

Her heart thumped in her chest. Of course she knew what he wanted, she wanted the same. It was a shame they had to play such games for the sake of their respective roles.

They arrived at the next hanging representation of her triumphs. This was a scene of the Grand Hall, arranged much like it was today. The Inquisitor on her dais, judging kneeling supplicants. Needing to ease the thick tension between them Malika eventually spoke.

“I can’t think what you mean your Majesty.”

“You know.” His words were almost a growl, she had to hide her shiver.

“Perhaps I do, but it’s very presumptuous of you.” She turned to him with a sultry smirk.

“It’s been three months since your last visit. I might have taken a new lover.”

“Have you?” He stepped closer to her then, looming till she was forced to tit her chin to meet his eyes.

“I could.” She said definitely, his height didn’t scare her. It thrilled her.

The heat crackled between them in the silence and they both held their breath, waiting to see who would crack first.

For all her rogues skill even she didn’t anticipate just how quickly the burly warrior could move. 

The curtain had barely swept back aside, concealing them from view before his lips were on hers. Solid and unyielding as they pushed and parted and devoured her little gasp of surprise. Their height difference brought him to his knees in a moment, even then they were still the same height.

“Malika,” he moaned between kisses. His hands frantic as he cupped, squeezed and caressed her covered curves. 

“We need a bargain,” she whispered as his lips found her throat, licking at what little skin he could access with her formal wear buttoned up to the neck.

“Caer Bronach,” he said against her skin. “If you make a sound then you’ll permit me to install a small supporting contingent there.” His hands found the laces of her pants and she found his. 

Malika touched him through his covering first, his hard erection already stretching taught the fine fabrics. An enticing bulge waiting for her to unwrap it once she agreed to the terms. She would never grow tired of the gentle rocks he would make into her hand or mouth as she stroked him. While she had been deliberating on the stakes Alistair's hands had found their way into the confines of her underwear. 

“Ahhh!” she hissed as his fingers set a skilled but quick pace circling her clit. Considering the infrequency of his visits he always remembered just where to touch her, it drove her to distraction. And for a time they lost themselves into the heavy petting, the giving and receiving of mutual pleasure.

_ What are you thinking? _ There were nobles just the other side of the curtain. She pried open her eyes that had been squeezed shut. It was black save for the sliver of light that framed the edge of the tapestry but even she could detect shadows as guests walked past.

_ You could get caught _ . But Malika felt so safe and encompassed in his arms, not to mention his maddening fingers now grazed over her slit, spreading her pooled wetness and heightening the stimulation.

“Malika _ please _ ,” Alistair hissed as impatience drove him to free himself from his breeches.

“What bargain?” He said as he roughly pulled her own garments down from her hips and away from her legs. Desperation laced his tone, it was highly gratifying. 

She felt her back hit the brickwork behind her as Alistair, still kneeling pressed himself against her. His hands took hold of her thighs and he hoisted her up so she was balanced between his hips and the wall.

“If you make a sound -” she broke off into a groan as at her entrance she felt his swollen tip nudging yet restrained. He still wouldn’t do more till she made him a counter-offer.

With her still balanced Alistair used one hand to rip swiftly at the buttons on her shirt, baring her breasts to his suddenly ravenous mouth. His head dipped forward and he captured a peaked nipple between his teeth. The slight sting, chased away with his tongue finally stirred her mind to action.

"Make a sound, and you'll be punished later." 

A devilish smirk that she could just about make out in the dim light crossed his features at her words.

“Oh, there’s going to be a later.”

She didn’t have time to consider what he meant by his words as without further warning he pushed forwards.

Malika bit her lip as his thick cock breached her walls. His girth always filled her so completely, just the right side of pain with that first unending thrust. Alistair gave a silent grunt as he hilted himself and they kissed sloppily while he gave her petite body time to adjust. Then, keeping her back pushed against the wall, he withdrew and snapped his hips back into her heat with a jolt. Malika felt the air rush from her lungs each time he did it again, and again.

Her breasts bounced with each hard thrust as drove her mercilessly against the Skyhold stone. Malika clawed at his still clothed back, holding onto him while she bounced eagerly on his cock.

From the small filtering rays of light she could see his brow contort in pleasure. It had been a long time for him too it seemed, the rapid penetrations, the unbridled pace of his hips as he fucked her, it all indicated that their game wouldn't last long.

For the most part they were silent. The odd huff or whimper stifled the only sounds barring the meeting of their flesh, his sac slapping lightly as he drove up into her wet, tight, cunt or the occasional tap tap of court shoes as someone walked by their hidden position.

The risk of discovery was  _ thrilling _ .

Malika was close already. The downy hair which crowned his sex brushed her pearl at every meeting. The way his hips in this position angled just so, meant her inner spot was stimulated with every deep penetration. Now she bit down on her tongue to still it, there was little doubt she was going to lose this battle.

Still she kept silent as the vibrations coursing through her body intensified. It was too much, he was too good. The moment her lips parted to cry out in ecstasy his hand clamped down over mouth.

The shock of it ebbed at her peak and prolonged her end. His hips still moved even as she felt him harden within her. His seed ready to pour forth and fill her as he had done countless times before.

Suddenly the coil of tension snapped. Even in the black of their meeting Malika saw white. Her head slipped back and body constricted around her lover. A tear slipped from her eye at the intensity of it. 

“Malika, yes!” Alistair groaned in satisfaction. His length pulsed within her as he too succumbed to the orgasmic high.

\---

Later, after they had dressed and somehow slipped away from the tapestry without being noticed Malika asked with her typical barbed tongue. 

“Why did you stop me crying out? Scared being caught fucking the Inquisitor will ruin your reputation?”

Alistair smiled easily, his response assured. “Far from it.”

“Then why?”

He leaned in close and breathed against her ear. “I just can’t wait to see what your idea of punishment is.”


End file.
